I managed to almost completely avoid the Dieciocho this year, until Sunday night when I got dragged to the Pampilla

Oh the dust, the crowd, the smell of burning meat, the drab winter clothing, the murky lighting, the losing your friends, the dodgy fairground attractions, the tat, the rubbish, the noise, the distorted public announcements, the pum pum pum of what might be music, the standing around, the morose crowds, the drift from one dusty patch to another.

At last, the fireworks!